


Components: V, S, M (a drop of honey)

by captainpeggy



Series: All in the Gutter [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainpeggy/pseuds/captainpeggy
Summary: ...knew that the world was larger than Syngorn, that you were never truly welcome in the realm of the fey anyways, and that this place wasn’t for you and never would be, that you’d better get used to stares no matter where you wound up, for your too-square jaw and too-blunt ears, for the last name you carried with you like a brand-- or for where your eyes drifted in small-town taverns, the elegant accent you’d never managed to shake, the narrow elvish frame you’d like to think you didn’t get from your father...A discussion of who we are, what we carry, and what it's worth.AKA: Y'all asked for the Vax & Allura conversation, and I live to serve.
Relationships: Vax'ildan & Allura Vysoren
Series: All in the Gutter [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209033
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	Components: V, S, M (a drop of honey)

“Tea?” offered Allura.

“I’m all right,” said Vax.

“Just conversation, then,” she said. “Sit down.”

“I can stand.”

Allura cocked her head, considering. “You’re aware I’m the most powerful abjurist on this continent, yes? There are very few places in the world safer than whatever room I happen to be in. If there is anywhere you should be willing to let your guard down, it’s here.”

From anyone else, it would have sounded like bragging, but her tone was clear and matter-of-fact-- a statement, not a claim. Vax had always liked that about Allura. She saw things the way they were, and she called them exactly as she saw them. It was a trait uncommon enough to be remarkable, and respectable enough to be credited.

Vax sat down.

“So what brings you by today?” Allura asked, pouring herself a cup. The aroma wafted over to Vax, unfamiliar but not unpleasant. She took a sip.

“Just some questions,” he said. “I’ve got a bit of a list. Vex was asking about more earrings, and Pike was wondering about stealth enchantments, and then when Tibs heard I was coming to see you, well--”

“Hm.” The ghost of a smile played at Allura’s lips. “He’s nothing if not persistent.”

“I can make up a convincing lie, if you like,” Vax offered. “I’m quite good at those.”

Allura laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you are. There’s no need. It’s... endearing. Maybe I will take him up on dinner one of these days.”

“Only if you don’t much care for the sound of your own voice,” muttered Vax.

“One doesn’t get far in academic circles without listening to a great many men talk about themselves. I’m used to it.”

Vax raised an eyebrow. “That’s depressing.”

“Oh, it is what it is. I was the only woman lecturing at the Lyceum for three years. Kima always told me I should show them all up in front of their students, put on some big flashy display and get myself some respect, but that was never my style. Then she offered to beat them up for me. I thought about it.”

 _Just like your average holy woman,_ Vax thought but didn’t say, the corner of his mouth quirking at the thought of Kima crashing a Lyceum lecture with her mace out.

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation without some kind of life-threatening elephant in the room, Vax,” Allura said. “It’s a strange relationship that I’ve got with your... friends?”

“We’re a strange bunch,” said Vax. “I think we’ve all lived our lives off-script, and there’s no signs it’ll stop anytime soon. Like you said, it is what it is.”

Allura smiled. “I remember. Adventuring parties... they-- _you_ have something special between you. I’ve known a lot of people in my life, but there’s very few I’d trust with it. It’s a unique bond we share with people who walk into every day knowing they might throw themselves in the path of an arrow for us.”

Vax thought about that for a moment.

There hadn’t been a lot of time to reflect these past few months. That was life on the road, particularly their life and their roads. But it was true, true that every morning Vax crawled out of his bedroll to see Percy polishing his gun, every time he opened his eyes to the sound of soft conversation between Keyleth and his sister, every time Grog came up with some convoluted and horrible prank to wake him up, every time he took the last watch and looked out over his friends as they came to consciousness...

He didn’t think about it at the time. It wasn’t the sort of thing you thought in the moment. _But yes,_ he thought now. _Yes. Every one of those mornings. Every day I woke up knowing I’d get knocked down a thousand times over for them._

Funny to think that the feeling could be mutual.

“We do,” Vax confirmed. “We certainly do.”

Allura took another sip of her tea. “Kima, Drake... they’re family, you know. Much more so than my blood family is. Parents say they’d die for you, of course, but Kima... Kima _has_.”

The words fell heavy in the air.

Vax blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you,” Allura mused. “She doesn’t talk about it much. I’m not sure whether it’s trauma or shame.”

“Could be both,” said Vax quietly. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Necromancer. It was a good few years ago, now. She caught a direct hit-- must have been fifth- or sixth-level at least. I didn’t see it happen. I’m glad of it.”

“You got her back?”

Allura nodded. “Funny thing about the church of Bahamut-- their compunctions about the natural order, about their time to die, about the glory of going down fighting... they tend to melt away when it’s one of their own lying on their temple floor.”

“I’m sorry,” said Vax.

“She’s fine,” Allura said. “Well-- not fine, she’s Kima. But it’s absurd to focus on that when she’s back now.”

“In all her three feet of glory,” mused Vax.

Allura laughed, and the tension broke. “She certainly fits a lot of personality in them.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vax started, and then stopped. “I’ve-- this is a weird question.”

Allura tipped her head in acknowledgement. “I’m sure I’ve heard weirder.”

“You and Kima,” he said. “Are you-- were you--”

Part of him hoped Allura would finish the sentence, but she seemed quite comfortable watching him stumble over the words. It was ridiculous. He was an adult. _Just ask the question, Vax._

“You’re clearly very close,” he finished lamely.

“That’s not a question, Vax’ildan.”

Vax found a loose thread in one of his gloves and twisted it between his forefinger and thumb. “You know what my question is.”

“Are you asking if Kima and I were lovers?” asked Allura kindly.

Vax forced a chuckle. “Uh, yes. That was the goal.”

“Yes,” she said. “We were always together, but the precise nature of that _together_ has been a great many things over the years. Romantic, for a while, yes.”

“She’s no Tiberius,” said Vax, half an attempt at a joke, half a veiled question.

“Don’t you preach to me about picking a side,” Allura replied with a crooked grin. “I’ve seen the way you look at Percival’s ass.”

The tips of Vax’s ears started to burn. “That’s not--”

She laughed. “I think it is.”

“It’s a nice ass. Objectively.”

“Oh, yes, objectively,” Allura said sagely. “I wouldn’t have expected you to have a complex about it. Didn’t you grow up in Syngorn?”

It wasn’t an odd question. Nothing she could have intended to make Vax’s stomach twist more than it already was, but it did nonetheless. His brow furrowed. She noticed.

“My apologies. I didn’t realize...”

“No, it’s fine. We... we weren’t exactly immersed in elven culture. We were in and out of Syngorn for a lot of our lives, more _out_ than _in_ for parts of it. And when we were there for any length of time, everything was scheduled, everything was strict. So, sure, I knew--”

_Knew there wasn’t anything wrong with the way your gaze lingered on men as much as women, knew there weren’t laws binding who you loved within these city walls, knew that the elves were never built to carry gender on their shoulders, knew that you walked in the footsteps of the Archeart..._

_...knew that the world was larger than Syngorn, that you were never truly welcome in the realm of the fey anyways, and that this place wasn’t **for** you and never would be, that you’d better get used to stares no matter where you wound up, for your too-square jaw and too-blunt ears, for the last name you carried with you like a brand-- or for where your eyes drifted in small-town taverns, the elegant accent you’d never managed to shake, the narrow elvish frame you’d like to think you didn’t get from your father..._

“It’s complicated,” said Vax. “My sister and I, we’ve got a long history, and we’ve spent more of it than I’d like to admit just trying to live to our next meal. We’re lucky, in some ways. I’m lucky. I didn’t-- I don’t hate myself for it.”

Allura set down her now-empty teacup. “Perhaps you should set the bar a little higher than _not hating yourself._ ”

“It’s not the men,” Vax said. “That’s not the issue.”

“Hm.”

“It’s-- gods, it’s the only damn thing that’s _not_ the issue.”

Allura just looked at him.

Vax shook his head and laughed a little, a bitter sort of sound. “I was never all that good at fitting a mold. Neither of us were. Neither of us _are._ And that’s the issue, that’s always been the issue, that we’re not what _anyone_ wants us to be--” He cut himself off abruptly. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I applied to the Lyceum eleven times,” said Allura without missing a beat. “Eleven. Ten rejections. You see, it’s not about _what_ you know in that sort of world. It’s about _who_ you know and who you are, and I knew nobody and I was no one. I think you and I had opposite problems. I starved for lack of expectations, and you and your sister were smothered under their weight.”

“Ten rejections,” said Vax. “One acceptance. But do you know how many times _we’ve_ tried? Far more than ten. Fifty, a hundred, a thousand. _And yet._ ”

Allura let the silence sit for a moment, pressing her lips into a thin line, and Vax thought for a split second that he’d crossed a line and offended her. But when she spoke again, it was soft, gentle. “And yet what, Vax’ildan? And yet you still lack a family? You still lack a home? You still lack a place where you are loved and safe and valued?”

Vax opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“It’s funny,” Allura said as she refilled her cup. “I’ve found that the things we desire most in the world sneak up on us. We fight and bleed and claw our way to them, and we struggle for so long that we forget to look around ourselves and see how far we’ve come.”

“Then why does it still hurt?” he asked quietly.

Allura laughed. “Oh, it’s not going to stop doing that. I’ll admit I’m no counselor, and I’ve no idea what you’ve been through. But progress isn’t always measured by pain. Sometimes--”

_\--sometimes it’s a friendly punch in the shoulder that sends you staggering to one side, a kind word and a bright smile on the darkest of nights, a gust of wind that’s more of a nice gesture than anything else, the keys to a keep where stupid, filthy, magnificent songs ring through the hallways, cool air filling your lungs again, and again, and again, slow and steady with the beating of your heart, the burn of good alcohol in the back of your throat, the crack of a gun and the choking last breath of your would-be killer, pink ribbons all woven through thick brown fur, warmth blooming in your chest at the sound of an awkward laugh, the crackling of a fire and the soft voices of friends--_

“Well,” said Allura. “Sometimes, I think, we need someone else to remind us of how far we’ve come. I think you’re awfully loved, Vax’ildan. I think you ought to let those walls down a little, and learn to know it.” She took a sip of tea, and laughed a little, waving her hand dismissively. “But what do I know?”

“I never told Vox Machina,” Vax said. “I mean-- well, I never _told_ them. About my... inclinations in both directions. I think they figured it out, some of them. I don’t think it’s dawned on Grog yet.”

“No,” mused Allura. “I think you could very well be in the middle of sucking Grog’s cock and it wouldn’t dawn on him.”

Vax choked halfway through a mouthful of tea, dribbling the liquid down his face and coughing furiously to try and clear his lungs. Allura watched, only mildly amused.

“I don’t think my jaw would survive that,” he said finally.

“Well, we all make sacrifices for the greater good,” Allura quipped.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

“I am a human being, Vax’ildan. I’m entirely capable of jokes.”

“Pike used to think I only flirted with men for the discounts. We had a talk about it, in her funny sort of way, where she speaks her mind clearly and then leaves you to make whatever moral decision you choose. Usually we were on the road enough it didn’t matter, but when we settled down-- there’s an armoursmith in town, Alexander Weston, who we went to see every so often, and a little charming smile here and there was one thing but eventually she informed me I was leading him on.”

Allura refilled Vax’s tea, and he took another sip before continuing. “I wasn’t. Leading him on. That implies giving someone the wrong idea, and, uh-- well, I wasn’t. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Yes,” Allura said with a smile, “seems about right. I always saw your sister as the cold-blooded haggler of your group, not you.”

“Can’t blame her for it,” muttered Vax. “A few copper here or there, that was the difference between life and death for us, for a while.” He swilled the tea gently around the bottom of his cup, watching the leaves settle to the bottom. “But you’re right. I’ve got enough of a tendency to hurt people _without_ doing it on purpose.”

Allura sighed. “You’re a better man than you think you are, Vax’ildan.”

“Maybe. But what the hell sort of benchmark am I meant to measure myself against?” He gestured widely with his free hand as he spoke. “Like I said. We-- _I_ don’t fit into any mold. Not in any of it. There’s no way to say if I’m worth anything. I’m a misfit in every box in this world, and every box in my father’s. It’s just... It’s a _reminder,_ alright?”

“What’s a reminder?”

Vax put down his teacup and rubbed his forehead. “That _everything_ about me is some fucked-up, confused mess of part-something and part-something-else. Not just my bones, not just my blood, but--” and he jabbed one finger roughly into his chest, precisely where he knew his heart lay, “ _this, too_.”

Allura settled back in her chair and looked at him in a way that was not unfamiliar: it was the way Percy studied a particularly complex mechanical design, the way his sister looked as she took careful aim with an arrow, the way Pike looked when she was lost in some mixture of thought and communion. It was a calm sort of expression, belying a quick mind behind her gentle blue eyes.

“Life is never a simple thing,” she said finally. “Love even less so. You’re not alone in being a mess of contradictions.”

Vax sighed. “I know. I-- I’m sorry. I hope that didn’t offend you.”

“What, that the people I’ve loved make me a fucked-up confused mess of part-something and part-something-else?” There was a glint of humor in her eye, and Vax opened his mouth to apologize again before she cut him off.

“Don’t you dare tell me that that doesn’t apply to me. If you’ll respect my _inclinations_ as entirely normal, you’re quite obligated to accept yours as well. Either the both of our hearts are dysfunctional, or neither of them is.”

There was a long pause.

“I guess you’ve got me cornered, then,” conceded Vax begrudgingly.

Allura inclined her head, just the tiniest bit. “I know it’s not simple. It never is. Probably more complicated for you and your sister, but then, what _is_ complication? You couldn’t keep up with a shred of the material in my spellbooks, and I couldn’t wield a knife with a tenth your precision. From where I sit, cartography is an incomprehensibly complex field, and yet, tens of thousands of people across this continent practice it every day. None of us are the same. _None_ of us. To compare ourselves to arbitrary standards is a fool’s errand.”

“I know,” muttered Vax. “I know. I know. I know it up here,” he pointed to his forehead, “but not in _here_ ,” and again he pointed to his chest.

“Well, there’s not a wise word in the world that can help with that,” said Allura sagely. “So you may as well just ride it out.”

Vax chuckled, a bitter, resigned sort of sound. “That’s gotten me this far.”

“Do you know very much about arcane history, Vax’ildan?” asked Allura suddenly.

Vax blinked, taken aback. “I think you already know I don’t.”

“Scanlan Shorthalt. Your gnomish friend. You’ve seen a great many displays of power from him, have you not?”

“Well, yeah.”

“The number is often debated,” Allura explained, “but most academics theorize that there are nine tiers of arcane power. Some believe there’s a tenth, and that access to that level of temporal and material control is what defines a deity, but that’s quite beyond the point. Spells are commonly associated with a tier, and some can be cast on a higher one in certain situations.”

“I’m not entirely sure where this is going,” Vax said.

“Magic is a field built on exceptions,” said Allura. “A great many of our baseline understandings of these tiers are built upon simple scaling formulae-- for example, you’ve seen your friend cast Magic Missile, yes? With that wand?”

“Yes?”

“That’s a classic spell, one that can be scaled up quite simply-- theoretically all the way to the final ninth level. But this sort of linear progression is extremely rare. Have you heard of the spell Bigby’s Hand?”

Vax squeezed his eyes shut, Scanlan’s semi-melodic battle bellow echoing in his head. “Yes.”

“That one is based in the fifth tier, and cannot be cast below it. It is unique to that specific category. It is not a stronger version of a simple spell-- it is its own original entity. Developed by a fellow named Bigby, if you can believe it.”

“I’m shocked.”

Allura wagged a finger. “I’m not finished. Bigby was an eccentric, even among wizards. You see, innovation in our field has often been described as ‘throwing spaghetti at a wall and seeing what sticks.’ It is rather easy to solve all one’s problems with an upcast Fireball, but you more than most understand that complexity is not always something to be feared.”

Vax nodded, beginning to see where she was going.

“To drastically oversimplify both cases, you and your sister cannot be cast at lower levels. You _are_ everything you _are_ because of _everything_ you are. It’s not just you, either. Every person on this planet is a profound symphony of construction and exception, and I think it’s rather magnificent.” She stopped for breath and took a sip of her tea. “So you don’t fit a mold. Is it worth wishing you could break your bones enough to force your way into one?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to _stop_ wishing it.”

“Well, stop _enjoying_ it, then,” said Allura, “and that can be a start.”

Vax smiled, a small one, but genuine. “You must be an excellent professor.”

“My students don’t generally give glowing reviews,” Allura replied. “I grade with strict honesty. But you’re not a student, you’re a friend.”

“Am I?” asked Vax.

And Allura looked at him, returned the smile and gently took his empty teacup. “Perhaps against my better judgement.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know tea is becoming a trend in these, but I’ve never _once_ had a conversation with another gay person where nobody mentioned tea. What do you think Allura’s going to serve, coffee? I have to laugh.
> 
> This week’s thing rec is the podcast EOS 10, which is a sci-fi drama following the medical crew of a massive space station. It’s... I saw someone summarize it once as ‘gay Scrubs in space’ and to be entirely honest, they weren’t far off. There’s a little more quantum fuckery, world-ending decisions, and interdimensional angst, though. It slaps. Listen to it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and as always comments make my day if you're able to leave them— but no worries if not :) I hope you have a lovely rest of your day.
> 
> P.S. I'm awful with additional tags, so if there's any others you think might fit this fic and you want to do me a favour, chuck them in the comments!


End file.
